


Let Me Go

by allisondraste



Series: Roses and Thorns [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Coping with the DR, F/M, Maybe - Freeform, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Will they get back together?, dark ritual mention, definitely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 23:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17032065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisondraste/pseuds/allisondraste
Summary: I blame Tumblr for this one, too.They always tackled their problems together, but what happens when they can't?





	Let Me Go

The revelries drew to a close, as soldiers returned home to their loved ones and Chantry priests began laying to rest the many who lost their lives in the great battle of Denerim.  It was a sudden and somber switch after the days of cheering and parading. The archdemon was dead, the Blight ended before it really even started. More surprisingly Lucia was still alive… and so was Alistair. The last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden both living to see the charred corpse of the dragon that had lain atop Fort Drakon. She should have been happy, overjoyed, elated!…Right?

She was none of those things. In fact, the staggering wave of nausea and aching chest brought tears of guilt and shame to her eyes. What had they done? What did she agree to? If she and Alistair both survived, it meant that Morrigan was — Lucia shook her head in a vain attempt to will that thought away. She wanted nothing to do with those thoughts.

Still, the thoughts came, knocking the wind from her chest and filling the empty bedroom completely.  It had been empty since they returned from their victory. Alistair could hardly look her in the eyes when he spoke to her, let alone sleep in the same room. Her poor love’s face had been so ashen and anguished that night. He steeled himself in the days to follow, becoming nothing more than sharp edges and empty smiles.

Lucia was flooded with dread and despair she had not experienced since her darkest days at the Circle.  What if they couldn’t overcome this? What if she was never able to forget?  She had been through so many things, but this seemed bigger than any of it.  She stood from her seat at the edge of the bed, staggered by dizziness and tingling limbs, watching as the room closed in around her. Demons whispered at the corners of her consciousness, and she needed to get out. She had to leave.

She hastily collected her things, haphazardly tossing everything into her leather bag, and grabbing her sword and staff as she exited the room. She walked as quickly as she could down the hallway without causing too much of a stir. It was late in the evening and most of the castle’s guests had retired to their rooms, still she did not wish to disturb.

The door to the courtyard could not have been further away, but she finally reached it. The world continued to spiral around her and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to breath. She stopped in an attempt to gather herself before she walked outside, pressing her forehead against the cool, rough wood of the door.

“Going somewhere?” A familiar voice rang out from behind, causing Lucia to jump slightly and her sword and staff fell from her arms with a clatter. She hadn’t seen anyone in the hall, not that she had been paying attention. It was hard to be aware of her surroundings when she was suffocating.

She didn’t answer, simply turning around slowly to face him. Their eyes met for the first time in days, and he wore a pained expression that caused her heart to fall into her stomach.

Alistair stood several feet from Lucia. He finally built up the nerve to face her, to talk about what had happened. He had no idea if they could salvage their relationship, but she was too damn important to him to not at least try.  He had gone to her room only to find it completely empty, and she hadn’t even left a note. He was relieved that he caught her, but he was furious. How dare she walk out like that after all they had sacrificed? After all that he had sacrificed?

“You could at least say goodbye, you know.” He spoke softly, attempting to remain calm, his voice quivering against his own will. “Or is this the part where I have to wonder if you hate me for the rest of my life?”

“I don’t hate you,” she answered breathlessly, her expression the same one she would have worn if she actually did hate him.  It was difficult to tell if she was hurt, offended, or both.

“Could have fooled me.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them, and she recoiled physically.  He might as well have written them on rocks and thrown them at her.  Still, he was too angry to feel sorry just yet.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Her words were pointed and cold.  It should have been impossible to feel so far away from her standing in the same room. “You’re the one who has been distant.”

“Right, blame me for being distant.  Maybe it’s because I can’t even look at you without wanting to die” He knew shouting at her wouldn’t help, but it felt so good to release the tension he had been holding in since… well, then. “I bet you never considered the possibility that I am having a hard time dealing with things. I never wanted to be with anyone else but you, not ever. Lucia, I had sex with Morrigan. _Morrigan_.”

“I remember.”  She crossed her arms, but he could see the glimmer of tears at the corners of her eyes. “Vividly.”

“Funny, I don’t seem to recall you being in that room doing something that made you physically sick.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I haven’t slept in days because every time I close my eyes, I can see it happening all over again.  It’s like I can still feel her on my skin, and no matter what I do I can’t seem to get the smell of her off of me.”

Lucia’s face paled and she remained silent.  These were things she should not have to hear, and yet he wanted her to know.  He needed her to know just how disgusted he was with himself, and he didn’t care how much it hurt her.  At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Oh, and let’s not forget that she’s pregnant with my child, and has run off to Maker knows where, doing Maker knows what. That’s something I’ll only have to live with for forever,” he continued, “You know, the only thing that allowed me to go through with this was the hope that we could both survive, and that we’d be able to get through this together, just like with everything else. Then you decided to just… leave.”

“I thought we could too, Alistair.” Lucia finally spoke again, her voice calm, but distant.  She looked down toward the ground, seeming unable to meet his gaze again.  Had he been too mean?  She didn’t really deserve his anger after all.  None of this was her fault alone.  They made this choice together. Then, it struck him that she had spoken in the past tense.

“Thought?” He knew he wouldn’t like the answer, but he had to ask.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling right now.  You have every right to be angry and hurt, and nobody in the world should be able to blame you for that. I wish that simply being alive and together were enough to take the hurt away. It kills me that I can’t comfort you.”  She paused, looking up at him, her eyes carrying the weight of what she was about to say next.  He knew there was a “but” coming, and he knew he was going to hate it.

“But I am hurting, too.” She blinked as if waiting for him to protest.

“I know,” he admitted, feeling ashamed that he hadn’t acknowledged it before.

“I know that you and Morrigan did this, in part to protect me, but now I have lost her and I’m afraid that,” she stopped, taking a deep, shaky breath, “I’m  afraid that I am losing you too.”

“You can’t lose me,” Alistair insisted rushing toward her, and taking her small, cold hands in his. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” She pulled away and his heart shattered. She was right. She was always right.  There was an impenetrable wall between them now, one that neither had expected. “It seems like everything I say to you only makes you more upset, and I’m, well…” She looked away, frowning.

“Go ahead. There’s nothing you can say that will make this worse.” He knew that probably wasn’t true, but it didn’t matter.

“The things you have been saying to me are the same things I hear every night by the demons in my dreams that look like you,” she still wasn’t looking at him, “It’s going to be hard to tell the difference, now.” A bitter smile, and she looked at him.

“Maker, Luce.” That was the last thing he expected her to say. He’d bee prepared for her to tell him she would never be able to look at him the same way again, that she couldn’t move past it, that she thought he was disgusting. Or was that what he thought about himself? Still, he was surprised. “You’ve been seeing demons?”

“Every night since the battle,” she nodded, “Sometimes they look like Morrigan, but most of the time they look like you. It’s hard resist them when I can’t even tell myself it’s not you.”

There was nothing he could say to that, no magic words that would somehow make everything right. It infuriated him that demons used him to torment her and that he could do nothing about it except make it more difficult. He couldn’t stand the thought of her becoming an abomination due to a demon using his face.

“Well,” he said, the word heavy in his mouth, “What now?  What do you need?” He fought the urge to comfort her, knowing that she would pull away. The wound was already deep enough, no need to twist the knife.

Lucia watched as Alistair deflated from his anger the way he always did.  Although, there was no relief in his expression, nothing to tell her that it would all be okay.  Even if there had been, she wouldn’t have believed it, not after everything he said to her.  Whether or not he would regret telling her, it was how he felt.

“I need you to let me go.” The words lingered in the air and left a bitter taste in her mouth.  She clenched her fists at her sides, bracing herself,  her breath steady in spite of her own heartache.  She needed to be strong.

“Lucia,” he rasped, his eyes searching her for an answer that she knew he wouldn’t find.  She didn’t even know if there was an answer. “Are you sure?”

She nodded in response, looking down at the stone floor beneath her feet.

“Where will you go?”

“Amaranthine,” she answered definitively, having already rehearsed this moment in her head multiple times. “Anora has granted Howe’s land to the Wardens to be the foundation of the Order in Ferelden.  They’ve asked for my help getting it started.”

“Okay.”  Alistair crossed his arms and shifted, clearly uncomfortable with her decision.

“What will you do?” She asked, hoping he had plans, something to keep him busy.

“I think I’m going to stay here, help clean up the mess.”  He looked around as he spoke. “Maybe I’ll visit Highever, you know, for Duncan.”

“Right.”

The silence between them stretched on for minutes, the tension so thick it could have been cut with a knife.  Alistair knelt to pick up the things Lucia had dropped, and handed them to her with a slight, sad smile.  She accepted his help, then nodded before turning to exit the castle doors without saying a word.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always disliked how the game glosses over the immense trauma that Alistair completing the Dark Ritual would cause for both him, the Warden, and Morrigan. I got a prompt, and it gave me the perfect opportunity to write about it. There will probably (most definitely) be a reunion sequel, so stay tuned.


End file.
